


Who Killed You?

by deerwitch



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Depression, English is my second language, I will tell in the chapters the warnings in the start so you can avoid it, Multi, Murder, Sad but with a Okay ending, but it is not only suffering I try to find some funny moments, it isn't truly happy ending but it is enough to say "okay", suicidal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23769112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerwitch/pseuds/deerwitch
Summary: If Biggie (Y/N, DA) hadn't gone to the Manor, for the celebration, then perhaps Champ (Y/N) wouldn't be in this mess.Champ is the younger sibling to Biggie and after Biggie's mysterious disappearing makes Champ want to find out what has happened to them. Going to the Markiplier Manor put them in a new perspective and sleepless nights to understand who would ever want to kill Biggie.
Relationships: Celine | The Seer/Actor Mark, Celine | The Seer/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel
Kudos: 1





	Who Killed You?

**Author's Note:**

> Biggie = Y/N or DA who went to the party (in the series Who Killed Markiplier)  
> Champ = Y/N that is the younger sibling 
> 
> I decided to give nicknames instead of typing Y/N all the time. And Y/N is now They/Them.   
> Warnings will be told in the Chapters when they come. Otherwise this first chapter will have some depression thoughts.

_ “Have you met my younger sibling Champ?” _ _   
_ _ “Hi guys, this is Champ! My younger sibling!” _ _   
_ _ “The real champion here is Champ and you all know it!” _   
That’s how it always sounded like. Or, used to. Champ watched the gravestone that belong to their older sibling. Their full name, their date of birth and their date of death was written on the stone. To be specific, the date when they went missing is written. 10th October 2017 was Biggie last seen.   
Biggie was the nickname Champ had give to the older sibling. Champ can’t really remember when they first said it, but Biggie used to mock Champ a little about it, said it was Champ’s first word they ever said. It just became a nickname, even if no one else used it. And everyone knew Champ as Champ, everyone called them Champ all because of their older sibling who never introduced Champ by their real name. 

But none of that matter now anyway. Especially when Biggie was gone.   
_ “We are sorry, but we can’t find them,” _ the line repeats in Champ’s head from the police officer, the day when they would close the case.    
Can’t find Biggie. How do they lose someone?    
_ “We found evidence that Mark, the owner of the Manor, has possible died,” _ at that point Champ had barely been mentally stable to take in about Mark, all they could think of was Biggie.  _ “but his body is gone. We fear the same fate has happened to your sibling. I’m sorry kid.” _   
That was three months ago, the police had only looked in to it for three weeks before they decided to close the case. Too little evidence, too many missing pieces.    
  
January seemed gloom more than ever, 2018 looked like it wouldn’t bring much. Three months ago the funeral was held. Did Champ ever got to know anything else from the police? No, it was nothing important to share and they weren’t going to give it all out to someone.    
_ “We can’t tell more than the last place they were at was the Manor.” _   
Champ heard the bus pulling in to pick up the passengers. They looked around, hadn’t realised they had been in autopilot while walking to the bus stop. Not that it is unusual. Considering that Biggie got murdered, or disappeared, without any answers, left Champ in shock. All these weeks have felt like Champ is in a loop of doing every day chores, and made them turned into a zombie who no longer thinks where they are walking. No longer express emotions.   
Champ walked onto the bus and took a seat that was free, sitting next to an elderly lady. Champ took a deep breath as they kept their eyes on the floor of the bus. Reason they had decided to visit Biggie’s grave was to gain confidence. Gain bravery.    
  
The last place Biggie was seen was at the Manor. If Champ got to know one thing, or see the place for themselves, get a picture what might have happened, then maybe it will be a peace in their mind. Perhaps it was hope Champ was looking for when visiting the graveyard, hoping all the endless questions would have a stop.    
Champ jolted when they felt a hand on their left shoulder and turned quickly to the elderly lady.    
“Oh,” she says surprisingly, hadn’t expected Champ to jump of that. “I’m sorry young lad, I just wanted to get off.”   
Champ looked lost for a second, looking at where they were, the next stop would be closer to the Manor.   
“Of course,” Champ mumbled and got up from the seat. “sorry.”   
The lady smiled to Champ before stepping out of the bus in her own tempo. Champ hurled themselves back to the seat and looked now outside of the window. This town maybe wasn’t much to look at, nor a town of gracefulness, or a town you find in someone’s song, but it was a Town that Champ knew from their bottom of their heart. The pling from the bus made them shoot up their head to see someone had pressed to get off the next stop, same as Champ.    
  
The chilly weather wasn’t bothering Champ too much, it was rather good to have it this way, rather than the hot summer they used to have. Champ started to walk towards their way.   
_ “The autumn will be a pleasant to have here,” _ that was what Biggie had said.    
It was true, the autumn isn’t bad, it weren’t too hot and the colourful of the dead leaves made it actually quite nice. But Champ saw the rest of the autumn as a curse and barley went out after the news of Biggie.   
They looked up from their steps and saw the big Manor. Well it was behind the big gates. Who needed big gates anyway? It is just unnecessary, take too long to open them, big and clumsy. Champ were lucky though they were able to actually swing it open. It gave a faint squeak from the gate when Champ only opened up the right one. They made sure to close behind them, didn’t want to bring attention to them, making people think they would rob the Manor.    
  
Champ let out a breathtakingly “wow” as they looked around. The Manor was big, they could never imagine themselves living in this kind of big house. Who would have time to clean the whole house? Is it a need to have five bathrooms if you are the only one living in it? Champ kept their eyes up as they got closer to it. The garden maybe were also big but it weren’t too beautiful, someone probably decided to stop taking care of it after all this mess. Champ skipped up on the small staircase and reached their hand to the door handle. Locked.   
“What-” mumbled Champ to themselves.    
This was supposed to go smoothly, not being complicated! They jerked the door handle and let out a groan, it weren’t going to open the more they get violent to it. A key. And did Champ have one? Of course not, they never knew Mark who was a great actor and whatever the news said about him. There were no chance that Champ would have the key.    
  
“Can he be dumb to leave an extra key?” Champ rather mumbled low, if someone saw them speaking to themselves, they would be classified as weird.    
But the one who has the greatest answers and the questions is one self. It is meant for people to talk to themselves, how else would scientists get answers if they didn’t ask the questions themselves?   
They looked around in the front yard, where could an extra key be? They left the door and started to look. At the bushes there weren’t one, neither at the fountain statue that had too much bird poop on it, the gate didn’t have any good hiding spots.    
“Stupid locked door that can’t even-”   
As Champ mumbled, they tried to push the statue of a medieval knight that stood within the entrance. It was heavy and they knew if it weren’t underneath this one, it maybe would be underneath the other one who was just across from them.   
“-be open for nice visitors.”   
The knight moved slightly and to Champ’s surprise, there were a key! Quickly they moved the big statue a little bit more so they could fully grab the key. It was rather small and silver, could have been easy to miss considering the stone staircase were silver as the key. 

  
Champ spinned around back to the door and put the key in, turned it to the right, only to turn it back to the left and it let out a harass click. Champ looked behind them, there were still no people near the Manor that Champ could see. Then no one had heard the click either. They pulled out the key and put it in their pocket before opening the door.    
The door swung open into the Manor. Champ just watched from where they stood. The January sun, that were on its way down, shined behind Champ and inside the entre, to the white floor and white walls. There were a white table near them, small and had a bouquet of dead flowers, in a vase, as a greeting. The dust was floating around when the sun hit them, and the sun shined back in to Champ’s eyes by a mirror reflection.    
They stepped in and closed the door behind them, the reflection stopped blending their eyes and it was rather quite dark without the sun as the light. Champ breathed slowly, as it was a sin to make a loud noise or to even make themselves heard in this Manor.    
  
It was here Biggie was last seen, in this Manor.    
_ “Oh, I have been invited to Mark,” _ Champ remember when Biggie had said it, they sounded very excited.    
Champ’s footsteps was heard softly as they walked in, walking away from the entre.    
_ “It was long time ago I saw him. . .”  _   
Champ looked in to what seemed to be the living room.   
It was rather nice, big couch with armchairs around. A fireplace that looked like it had never been used. Champ walked closer and saw it were pictures on top of the fireplace. They were all of Mark. Champ never met Mark personally, or any of Biggie’s friends for the matter that they went in college with. The age gap was a bit between Champ and Biggie but it never stopped them to have a close contact with each other.    
_ “Very traditional of him to invite us with letters, instead of email or phones. It feels very upper class!” _   
  
It was surprisingly nothing left from police who had been here, shouldn’t they have left some stuff? Or did they clean up after themselves and the evidences as well? Champ stepped back from the fireplace after feeling the big smile from Mark was unpleasing to watch the whole time. They walked back to the entre, Champ had a little feeling of leaving but it could also be the headache they had got. They rubbed their fingers softly side of their head.   
“When did I get it?” Champ asked themselves and looked then to the left, a staircase was there that they must have missed to see when they stepped in.    
Champ grabbed the cold brown railing and looked up to the stairs.    
_ “He has been busy himself, or all of us has been busy. Maybe Mark felt it was time for us to all meet up again and have a celebration at the same time.” _   
  
Champ stood on the second floor, seeing all the possibilities where to walk next. They went to left after seeing a closed door. As they walk with their hand trailing on the railing, they look down and sees the entrees, it wasn’t too high, if someone fell they would probably survive or just break a leg. They came to the door and reached for the door handle. Locked.    
“Is this a fucking game or what?” Champ pulled up the key they had got but there was no surprise it didn’t fit for the door. “Fine. I don’t care, if you’re locked, then be that.”   
Champ wandered around instead on the second floor. Looked outside of the window-door that lead to a rather big balcony. Is it normal for people to get lost in their own big Manor? Or do they learn after three weeks where everything is?   
_ “Which one of you are meeting up?” _ Champ had asked it to Biggie but Biggie had just laughed.   
_ “The old gang of course!” _   
_ “Oh,” _ Champ felt dumb for not remembering which ones the old gang was, Biggie knew a lot of people, it could be anyone!  _ “that gang.”  _   
  
The more Champ wandered around, it felt heavier, knowing that Biggie spent their last hours in this house, Champ felt a big clump in their throat, impossible to swallow it down. After finding another staircase leading down again, Champ had to stop in the mid staircase and take a deep breath.    
“Breath,” they mumble to themselves.    
They hadn’t felt like this before, almost how they had forgot how to breath. In through nose, out through mouth. They did it a couple of times before continue down the stair and was back in the living room. Champ tried to hold themselves together, they feel this because they miss Biggie, nothing else. Even if this feeling hasn’t been there before.    
  
Champ looked around and saw a room, with no door, right next to the living room. As they walked over, it looked more like an office, with a tv in there and some windows that would probably need a good clean. The brown table stood in the middle and had shelves behind it. It was empty, nothing in the shelves or on the table. Must have been an office for guests, or perhaps it was there Mark used to sit to learn his roles as the great actor he was.    
Champ held their fingertips on the table as they walked around it, feeling the cold wood but also how a collective of dust ended up on their fingers when stroking it. It was very noticeable on the table where Champ’s fingers had trailed off. They rolled their hand away from the table and looked down at the fingers, covered in grey dust. The place really needed a good clean if someone would ever buy this place. But who would want to buy a Manor there people were murdered and disappeared in? Something white caught their eye when they looked down on their fingers, focusing on what sticked out from the rest of the floor.    
  
In the trash bin, underneath the table, was a white paper. It wasn’t crumbled together or weren’t fold. Champ bent down to the bin and pulled the paper up, also dust on it but otherwise, the text was still on it. But it made Champ confused. Wrinkled their eyebrows as they mumbled;   
“The Colonel did it, the Colonel did it..”   
The whole paper was covered in only that sentence. The clump that was in Champ’s throat suddenly went down to their gut, they were creeped out. Why does this sentence repeat over and over again? Was it a prank? Couldn’t be, the paper was covered in dust, like the rest of this place. Was this written when Biggie was here? Shouldn’t the police carried this with them? Or did they simple drop it?   
  
BANG   
  
Champ shoot up their head, right underneath the table, letting out a gasp as they rubbed their backhead, bend away from the table to look over it and out to the living room. The sound they had heard was something got broken, possible glass had fell to the floor because of the clink that followed along with the bang.    
Carefully they got up together on their feet, listening after any other sound. Something tapped further away. Champ had their eyes out on the living room while they stuffed the paper in their coat pocket, before sneaking out from the office.    
  
Was it a thief? Had someone seen Champ sneaking in here and was about to confront them? They neither had anything to protect themselves with, looking around in the living room, there weren’t anything that could use as a weapon or as defend. They held their breath as they made it towards the entrance, the sound of the tapping became clearer and they could hear, whatever this person did, make small unknown sounds.    
Champ put their hand on the wall, carefully looked behind it and out to the entrance. On the white table, there was a raccoon. It held the dead flowers and the vase was on the floor, broken in pieces. Champ let out a relieved laugh and the raccoon looked over before it ran away of fear. There must be a window, or something, that made it come in to the Manor and looking for food.    
  
Champ looks at the broken pieces of the vase and their smile faint slowly. They don’t feel they got anything out of this place. Nothing could answer how Biggie had it here or any signs of violence. The house left Champ with nothing. While walking to the door, they heard some of the small glass files underneath their shoes. It was time to leave.    
When they stepped out, the sun had made it down and the lamps outside of the house was on. Who pays the bills for the electricity when no one lives there?    
A lot of questions and Champ believes they wouldn’t get any of them answered. They locked the door and stared at the key for a long time before putting it in the pocket of their pants. No one would have use of the key anyway, and someone could rob the place for all that matter as well!   
  
The bus trip back home to their apartment seemed long and the headache grew bigger with the people who kept talking, and the noises from the, never quiet city, made it worse. When they got home, they turned on all the lights and put on something that please them in the speakers. They don’t want to feel alone in a dark place, it is better to have everything on the highest volume while eating.    
But even while eating they felt exhausted, it has been a long day after all, with studying, going to the graveyard, to only then break into a house there it was nothing in there. Champ pulled up the key from their pants and put it on the kitchen table. Usually Biggie would always lay a comment as ‘keys on table gives bad luck’. Well, going to a big Manor seemed to give bad luck as well.    
  
Champ glanced at the clock and it started to get late anyway, they had a part time work on top of everything else they have. It seemed Champ dragged it out with turning off the lights, turning off the speakers. Staring at a wall far too long before they snap out of it. Today had been a strange day and it brought Champ down, but tomorrow it was work, they can then focus on something else.    
What seemed hours was only minutes before Champ slumbered away.   
  
* * *   
  
Champ had a mission; picking flowers to the old cat who had a beard. Blurry vision made it hard to tell what flowers there was, but Champ could make it out that it was at least yellow flowers they had picked up. They picked flowers with an old friend that they haven’t seen since daycare. The chubby face of the child gave a smile as they had collected more flowers than Champ, seeing them made Champ feel smaller, like they were also back in daycare. The old cat would be pleased enough with those blue flowers the chubby child had picked, Champ knew that!   
  
The chubby child disappeared fast enough and left Champ in the weird field of flowers that grew right in the middle of a road. Champ was about to pick up more flowers until they saw something flash before their eyes. Looking right ahead of them was, well what Champ could make it from the blurry vision, was a black hole. In the next second, Champ was in that black hole.    
  
The flowers was gone, and they felt taller, back at their normal length. Champ looked around, the flower field was gone, it was pitch black wherever they looked. Champ took some steps.    
It felt weird, like the vision got a bit clearer even if there was nothing much to see. It is like they are more in control now of the dream. How strange, Champ seem to be able to think clearly now. It could be a lucid dream they are having, they have heard about it and how you can control your dreams. Champ tried to imagine back to the yellow flowers and the old cat, but nothing of those appeared. Damn, then that child won with giving the prettiest flowers to the cat.    
  
Nothing in this place, expect there is annoying ringing sound. It was faintly heard but it disturbed Champ enough. ‘Look up’ came to their mind and Champ looked up. In a distance, something was floating high above them. It looked like a frame, but the frame had no picture in it. Champ walked closer to it and stood right underneath it. It was high up so they couldn’t see in to it. Its a brown frame with a darker brown details on it, which was a line and it kind of reminded Champ a line of dead rose apical.    
  
A feeling in Champ said that it was a mirror they looked at. From more what Champ could tell, it was broken, something had smashed it. But it was something more.    
Champ stood on their tiptoes and tried to get a better look, taking some steps back to see if they could see better. They needed to see what it was. In the back of Champ’s mind, they know what will happen if they look in to a mirror, they will see themselves. But the urge was bigger, it felt like they would see something they had never seen before.    
  
The ringing sound seemed to creep up behind Champ, trying to ignore it, focus on the mirror. But the chilling whispering sound that echoed everywhere made them stop and stand completely still. Champ listened up, listening past the ringing tone.    
“It’s not fair, is it?”   
  
* * *   
  
Champ shoot up their head and their hand went straight towards the alarm. Turning off the God forsaken awful sound before putting their head back to the pillow, drying off some drool off their cheek. Geez, some dreams are really weird. Champ usually has a tendency to forget dreams as fast as they wake up but not with this one. They know they dreamt something about an old daycare friend but then there was a mirror. Strange dream, they remember almost everything about that dream.    
  
When the second alarm came on, Champ sat slowly up from the bed. Time to get ready for another day at the lovely retail work, the shopping market. 

**Author's Note:**

> English is my second language and I don't have a Beta Reader, please tell me if you find anything wrong, I won't get mad!
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr; strangerdeer


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